


This Season's Favour

by BakerStTardis (Sokashi)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Pining, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 11:50:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3066797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sokashi/pseuds/BakerStTardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock have to pretend to be engaged for the Holidays spent with Sherlock's family. All kinds of pining and fluff to follow. :) Oh, and this is sort of an au- no Mary, ect. I don't want to touch season 3 yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Christmas Pine

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism and beta remarks are not welcome, thank you.
> 
> My story for the Exchangelock Holiday Gift Exchange on Tumblr. 
> 
> More to come and tags may change as I get it edited enough to post!

Sherlock didn't dream. It was possibly the only time his brain stopped recording, when he slept. It was the only way he knew this wasn't some scenario blooming up from his subconscious. He held the door for John, absently, watching the other man's eyes go wide, face amused like it did when he ended up ridiculous places. This place, this jewelry store was probably the most ridiculous and that included the when they'd ended up in the Palace together. Although this time Sherlock was at least wearing pants.

"Isn't this a little..." John's voice trailed off and he shot a look at Sherlock, amused and a touch nervous if the way he'd put his shoulders back and drawn his chin up as if daring anyone to challenge them. "Don't you have a couple of jewelers who owe you? We could go somewhere else."

"No. This is fine." Sherlock said briskly, not wanting to argue or worse, explain. There was no way to tell John that he didn't want to be distracted by store owners over eager to help, to offer Sherlock the best or try to offer something discounted or free. Not this time. Not in this. He swept his way into the building, eyes scanning the gleaming cases garishly decorated with Christmas wreaths and holly. 

It was busy, overcrowded with Christmas shoppers and John scowled, stepping closer to avoid being trampled by a man and his dozen packages. "You think Mycroft would've given us a bit more warning than this so we could've avoided shopping the week of Christmas." They'd already been to fit John a new suit and picked up various necessary presents. this last thing was necessary for the trip to come. 

"I'm certain he did it on purpose actually." Sherlock hummed then put thoughts of Mycroft away as he lead John to the right counter. Engagement rings, wedding rings, promise rings of all shapes and sizes and colors. John stopped next to him and looked down into the case, shifting slightly on his feet. 

"What are we looking for here?" John asked, voice low, eyes on the approaching saleswoman. 

"Don't be obvious, John. We're going to be engaged, we need rings." Sherlock said, eyes scanning and dismissing the whole front row. 

"Well, I've not exactly done this before, Sherlock." John hissed then smiled winningly at the saleswoman. The cut of Sherlock's suit appeased the pretentious concerns she had about them being able to pay and the smile John gave her smoothed the rest of her after an afternoon of frantic husbands and demanding customers.

"Hello, how can I help you?" She asked flashing bright teeth and flipping her curled hair back.

Sherlock felt John look at him, waiting for him to take over, but when Sherlock didn't speak John took over. "Ah...yes. We're shopping for rings." John cleared his throat and stilled, lifting his chin again. Sherlock watched him come to a decision and meet the woman's eyes. "Engagement rings."

She didn't even blink but her smile widened. "For the two of you?" Her eyes flicked from John to Sherlock, calculating.

"Yes, obvious." Sherlock said impatiently. "Now show us your better stock. Two bands, nothing too flashy. John prefers gold, I silver, but we'll both be willing to compromise for the right pair."

Unfazed, the woman just smiled and started pulling rings out of the cabinet describing them grandly. John shot Sherlock a chastising look but smiled at her and listened politely. Sherlock didn't listen, not really. He was recording, stocking every moment away for later. Shopping for engagement rings with John. He didn't care that it wasn't real, that they were getting the dressings to play a part. He wanted to keep this moment forever, to hold onto it for- whatever was to come. John was nodding at something the woman said and his smile was kind and his eyes seemed so dark a blue in a room shining brightly with gold and jewels. His head turned to look at Sherlock and his smile grew, crinkling the corners of his eyes and he looked amused, like they were sharing in a joke and Sherlock felt his chest freeze. He couldn't draw a breath and there was something wrong inside his chest and he saw John's smile fade as an eyebrow rose in concern, a quick- are you okay?- in a look.

Sherlock blinked and shook his head, focusing again. "Those are terrible. Don't waste our time." He said impatiently and caught the amused look that crossed John's face before he grimaced apologetically at the woman. 

The woman paused minutely and Sherlock felt victorious at the greedy glint in her eyes before she set aside the rings she'd been holding out. "Just a moment, please. I think I know just what you'd like." She turned away to another cabinet leaving him alone with John. John, who leaned closer, voice lowered just for him. 

"This is ridiculous!" He hissed and half giggled. Sherlock thought he should be hurt, that John thought this was so much a joke, but he couldn't help but share that smile and the warm feeling it sparked inside his chest. "This is way too much, Sherlock. We should've gone somewhere else, somewhere more...us." The last word made Sherlock look sharply at him, but John just smiled and nudged his shoulder companionably as the woman reappeared. 

"Excellent. Much better." Sherlock said, preemptively cutting off whatever she was about to say. She carried a small tray with three sets of rings on it. The first pair were inlaid with diamonds and while tasteful, Sherlock knew John would uncomfortable with such obvious signs of wealth. The second was simple, plain, expensive. Nothing spectacular but noteworthy. Sherlock started to reach for them but John spoke before he could. 

"These are nice." Short, strong fingers picked up the third pair of bands, muted gold and silver molded into geometric curls of rings. It was unexpected, easily overlooked but distinctive. John Watson appropriate. The man eyed them, tilted one to the light to peer at closely before turning suddenly to Sherlock and taking his hand. Before he could react, John slipped one of the rings onto Sherlock's finger and stared at it with a smile. Then he looked up at Sherlock, eyes bright. "What do you think?"

Sherlock memorized the feel of John's fingers holding his. Strong and warm and dry. Sure. The eyes that looked up at him with amusement and easy cheer that he'd never seen in another pair of eyes turned his way. It was effort to look down, to not clutch those fingers back, to keep his voice steady when he responded. "Good choice, John." He approved and John pulled the ring back off to pass them back to the waiting saleswoman. She was smiling more naturally now, charmed by them as a couple. "Wonderful choice, gentleman. And how would you like to pay?" 

~

 

The sentence recalled John to their task and he abruptly felt stupid and embarrassed by his actions a moment before. He was indulging himself too much. Letting himself forget. Purposefully he recalled that morning when Mycroft had appeared in their flat, unusually serious, as he strode in the door. He'd ignored Sherlock's attempts at their usually childish banter and when John had moved to turn on the kettle, Mycroft's hand had risen to stop him. "Don't bother with the tea, John, I need undivided focus for this." John had glanced at Sherlock but the other man had sat up from his pout on the couch and was staring hard at his brother, reading more things John couldn't see. John had moved into the room and sat on the edge of the chair, half afraid of what Mycroft would say. The man had wasted no time, tapping his umbrella once on the floor before meeting Sherlock's eyes. "I'm calling in my favor from the Icepop Incident." John stilled and didn't even need to look at Sherlock to know the his friend had, too. "I know we agreed never to speak of it, but I need the two of you to realise how serious I am when I say I need you to do as I say, no questions asked."

Neither John nor Sherlock had spoken but they'd shared a look and John had nodded once, telling Sherlock he was there, whatever came. Then Mycroft had said the last thing they'd expected to hear.

"The two of you are coming home for Christmas." John had felt Sherlock freeze. He hadn't been moving, either but now he was radiating stillness as he and Mycroft stared at each other. "As an engaged couple." 

John hadn't known how to react to that. It was like someone had seen into his dreams and offered him a taste of it and he couldn't even say no. 

Things had moved quickly after that. There was shopping with Sherlock at Christmas and the man hadn't brought anyone to tears yet. There had the hour John spent standing half naked in a shop so expensive it didn't have even a sign out front while Sherlock directed styles and cloth and cuts to the man measuring him then an argument in a taxi about appropriate gifts for one's brother. Now they were shopping for rings for a fake engagement to the man John would most like to call his own in the world. The sight of that ring on Sherlock's finger had been heart stopping and it had been so easy to just hold his hand and enjoy it. How he was going to get through the holidays with Sherlock's family pretending to be in love with the man he was undoubtably in love with was beyond John at the moment. He just hoped Sherlock attributed it all to John's growing acting skills and that they'd come out of the holidays without anything ruined between them.

The woman was handing an expensive bag over to Sherlock who took it absently before turning and striding through the growing holiday crowd. John kept to his side, biting the inside of his cheek against the urge to take the free hand next to him. To savor heat coming off the man next to him, the comfortingly familiar snap of his coat against John's legs as they walked. 

"I haven't had a chance to ask." John said as he followed Sherlock into the taxi. "Why could your brother possibly need us to be a couple at your family holidays?" 

"No idea." Sherlock responded immediately, sounding intrigued despite himself. "Political maneuverings, secret societies, trying to appease my mother, suspected burglary?" He shrugged. "It'll be interesting to find out." 

John stared, wondering at the fact that he wasn't surprised that Sherlock wasn't joking. "So no ideas yet?" He half teased.

"Facts, John." Sherlock iterated, nose wrinkling in that adorable way he had. "I need facts. It's unfortunate that we have to endure my family for it, but this could prove to be a worthy puzzle." He shrugged eloquently as the taxi stopped at Baker Street and leapt out leaving John to follow with the bags. It was ridiculous that he was smiling about the whole situation.


	2. Holiday Fervor

Sherlock was no help in wrapping presents and that shouldn't have been a surprise to John but it was distinctly frustrating when he was trying to wrap presents for people he likely needed to impress. "Sherlock, I know you can do this! It's geometry or origami or something. You'll love it! Get out here and help!" There as a thump from Sherlock's bedroom but no sign of Sherlock himself. John sighed and cocked his head to peer at the package he'd just wrapped. It wasn't too crooked. Maybe they could blame it on traveling? There was another thump and John looked around the mess of the living room, eyes straying to the black bag that held their rings sitting on the seat of Sherlock's chair. "Please tell me you are at least packing!" Sighing, John set the package to the side and reach for another when a pair of long arms suddenly wrapped around him and a body draped along his spine.

"Stop fretting, John, packing only takes a few minutes." Sherlock's voice rumbled through John's chest, his lips brushing the back of John's neck.

"Jesus!" John jerked away, heart pounding. "What are you doing, Sherlock?"

Sherlock uncoiled from the convoluted position he'd been in to lounge over John and looked annoyed. "We're going to have to be physically intimate as a couple, John."

Yeah, as if John hadn't already thought of and discarded a couple of those fantasies. "Give a bloke some warning, though." He sputtered, embarrassed at reacting so dramatically. Honestly, he was a grown man blushing on the living room floor.

Sherlock stared at him, pale eyes cutting up through dark lashes. He sighed heavily, as if being asked to do something tedious. "I'm about to be physically intimate with you, John." He warned. His voice was low and rumbled with dark purpose that made certain parts of John anatomy react as dramatically as the rest of him had moments before. 

John started to leap up, but stumbled when he realized his reaction would be even more obvious, and instead just shifted farther away under the pretense of grabbing the present he'd half thrown in surprise. "That...isn't what I meant." He said awkwardly, clearing his throat. He felt Sherlock following him and tried to look busy. "Sherlock, we're already physically intimate with each other. More so than most friends are. I think we'll be fine. Here. Wrap." He shoved a gift blindly at Sherlock and hid his surprise when Sherlock paused but obeyed.

The pure number of presents that had been bought was daunting to John. His family had never been large. Him, Harry, a couple of cousins when they were young but nothing once any of them reached college. This was thirty at the least. He'd lost track about four presents back and given up completely when shopping. Despite the itinerary and notes Mycroft had left behind (which had included a map and family tree), John had no idea what to expect for a Holmes family Christmas.

"Mistletoe." John blinked at the sudden comment and looked up to find Sherlock staring, a perfectly wrapped present sitting in front of him. "There will be mistletoe, John. We should practice." Sherlock sounded so certain and frustrated that John wasn't cooperating. John closed his eyes and breath out through his nose, ignoring the tripping in his chest.

"We're grown men, Sherlock. I think we can manage a peck on the lips without practice." Sherlock just stared, not moving until John just sighed, refusing to look up. "Presents first." He relented.

The speed at which Sherlock started wrapping would've been flattering if John didn't know it was all for a case. 

~

"Jesus." John breathed when Sherlock slid back into his space. They were sitting close enough Sherlock could feel the touch of breath against the edge of his jaw, too low for his lips, the slant of his cheek. He didn't respond because he had nothing to say. He knew he was pushing John in this, knew that he could trust that should they need to kiss for whatever was coming that John would hold his own side of the deceit without practice. Sherlock wanted this, though. A kiss from John without witness or need. Maybe even needed it to... Calibrate. Yes. That was a good word. He needed to know what to expect, needed to catalogue now and not be tempted later when he could miss something important.

Sherlock's eye roved John's face, so close. The color of his lashes, real gold, brighter than his hair and the pattern to his skin, the three tiny wrinkles feathering the left eye verses the four on the right. They deepened as he stared and Sherlock realized John was grinning at him, shoulders easing a bit despite the scrutiny. "Well the staring is unusual." He stated, his voice kind though, not mocking.

"Documenting." Schlock responded, allowing himself one more sweep of John's face- flushed. Nervous? Uncomfortable? Eyes- uncertain. Light too low, back to the nearby lamp. Sherlock frowned and debated allowing himself to reach for John's pulse. He couldn't read what he needed, couldn't see, but then John proved stubbornly difficult to read at the most inconvenient moments.

John gave a chuckle at that and shifted. Behind him sat rows of presents. In a few minutes they'd have to start packing. Now, though, it was the two of them sitting on the floor of their flat with half the lamps on because they'd been too busy to turn on the rest and the sound of Mrs. Hudson singing carols downstairs in a surprisingly decent voice. Sherlock should've started a fire. Put music on for them. Not carols, but something else. John enjoyed when he played pieces of Sibelius or Tchaikovsky or maybe that was too much. Sherlock frowned as John chuckled again. "You're thinking too much." John accused kindly and ignored Sherlock's attempt to say there was no such thing by reaching past him for the bag from the jeweler's. "Here. We might as well do this right." He said and yes, flushed. Blushing. The hand that rested briefly on Sherlock's thigh to give him leverage to reach the bag had been steady though and when he settled again he met Sherlock's eyes a smiled, offering him the ring box.

Sherlock swallowed thickly, pressing the fancy little box open to reveal the two rings inside. He tugged John's ring out and it felt pleasantly too large in his hand, a little foreign, the weight off from what he was used to. John held his hand out, palm up, but Sherlock grasped it gently and turned it over, sliding the ring on himself. He didn't dare look at John's face in the moment. Didn't want to see amusement or tolerance or confusion or whatever would be there. Instead he focused on the sight of the ring sliding over John's thick finger, catching slightly on the knuckle before pushing through. The gold wasn't dull but wasn't garishly shiny, the silver sparkled a bit as if hinting at jewels. It was slightly loose which made him frown a bit but he felt John smile, his other fingers closing over Sherlock's briefly. 

"Don't worry. I won't lose it. It won't come off." He said lightly.

Sherlock didn't have a response for that so he didn't make one but he let go of John's hand as he looked up to see him smiling gently, no trace of mockery or fear or disdain to be seen. Then John looked away to pull out the other ring, grasping Sherlock's hand absently almost as he tugged the jewelry from the velvet it sat in. "I feel like I should say something." He chuckled slightly, self conscious more than uncomfortable. 

"If you like." Sherlock replied, voice low in the hope it would hide the tightness of it.

John's eyes flicked up to him in surprise, then he smiled that smile that was only Sherlock's. Fond and amused and something that was almost sad that Sherlock could never pin point. "Alright." John said, glancing down again to slide the ring on. "I promise to be by your side, watching your back. To protect you from your family and to protect them from you in turn." He added with a quirk of his lips and a wry bit of smile. Sherlock smiled back a little and dipped his chin, unable to deny it would happen. The ring slid into place and John ran a finger over it. "To always do what's needed to help you." He looked up and grinned easily, a different smile. The confident one that got suspects to talk to him and his girlfriends to forgive him. "And to kiss you under the mistletoe."

Before Sherlock could react, John lifted his hands and cupped Sherlock's face, bringing his chin down as he lifted his own up. Sherlock's eyes fluttered shut and there were warm fingers framing his face, thumbs brushing slightly at the edges of his mouth, sure palms holding him in place. Then there was a brush of warm lips, soft then firmer. It was only a slight contact, but it stunned Sherlock's mind still. This was more intimate, more buzzing and alive than he'd ever expected. The moment was suspended on the touch of their lips, time balanced precariously on the sensation of John's firm mouth gently moving against his. Then it was ghosting back, lingering traces sparking along Sherlock's mind as John pulled just as gently away, his hands sliding from Sherlock's face although their mouths hovered close. John breathed- something, a word or a noise Sherlock couldn't identify against his lips. Sherlock's eyes shot open and he struggled not to gasp for the breath he hadn't taken as John pulled back, straightening slowly. 

There was something in John's face, something Sherlock needed to see and he started to lean forward, follow John's retreat when John's eyes found the clock on the wall and he jolted upright, cursing. "We're running late!" He announced, rolling to his feet. "Go pack, Sherlock. There won't be time in the morning. Not with all these gifts to haul downstairs-" Sherlock watched John bolt upstairs and sucked in a breath, his chest shuddering with it. He let himself fall backwards on the floor and try to slow his heart, reset the rhythm of his body, tuning out all of John's fussy rambling above him but savoring the tone of his voice and realized that solving whatever puzzle Mycroft had for them would be nothing compared to this. Compared to John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a little late, but the kiss was killing me. It needed to be short and sweet but intense and I hope I found a good balance. Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
